


Shields and Circuits

by adexia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Electrocution, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Robots, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adexia/pseuds/adexia
Summary: “You can feel pain! Why can you feel pain!”





	1. Chapter 1

He’s afraid and exhausted. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going.

His internal clock had broken at some point, probably while he was trying to dig the tracker out, so he doesn’t know how long he’s been on the run for. Days, certainly, but with the rainy season in full swing it’s so difficult to tell. Day and night just run together.

Another worrying thought is the lack of sun. He’d run off without his charging cable, and his solar panel can barely catch the weak sunlight filtering through breaks in the clouds. The rain itself doesn’t worry him--he was definitely built to be waterproof--but the clouds are a constant source of anxiety.

He spots a deep overhang and darts underneath, glad to find a dry spot for once. He sits heavily on the concrete, bringing his hand to the back of his neck to try and find the damn tracker again. He’s almost certain that if he can just get a good grip on the right plug and pull it out, he’ll be free of it. He shuts his eyes in concentration, rain-slick fingers probing deep into his neck--

The fingers slip and press on a sensitive wire. He spasms, pulling his hand out so hard and fast it slams into the brick wall. He vocalizes a frustrated noise that’s half static and half rage.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His eyes fly open and he looks up, focusing in on the woman in a raincoat. “Okay, stupid question, I guess,” she says, lips quirking into a grin. “You’re sitting out in the rain with your hand three-knuckles-deep in your neck.” He lurches to his feet, raising his arms in a cross to protect himself without hesitation. She raises her own hands, palms-out, nonthreatening. “Woah, easy now! I’m not gonna hurt you, buddy.”

He does a surface analysis of her body language, unable to bring up the processing power for anything deeper, and lets his arms sag back down. “You shou-shou-should leave,” he says, forcing his vocalizer to stop stuttering. Digging in his neck so much did have side effects. “It’s dangerous to be near me.”

“Oh, how come?” She lowers her arms as well, crossing them thoughtfully. “Is there something bugging you in your neck?”

“You should leave,” he repeats, backing up against the wall, intent on putting some distance between himself and the woman.

She steps under the overhang after him, and his protocols start flashing proximity alarms--no one should be this close except for a select few. “Listen, if there’s something I can do, I’m a mechanic.” She pulls open her raincoat to show the toolcase belted around her hips. “I was just dropping someone off back home. I can take you to the shop?”

He weighs his options. If he follows this stranger, he could lead his pursuers to her doorstep, and she would be in danger. If he just refuses the offer, he could keep running for as long as he’s able, keep trying to remove the tracker on his own… But who knows how successful he would be?

A third option crops up. He steadies himself and turns around, pointing to the opening wound. “Tracking chip. It needs to come out now.” He feels foolish trusting himself to a stranger, but his choices are very limited just now.

Her hands press on his shoulders, and he takes the cue to bend himself forward for easier access. “Oh, it’s really in there, isn’t it?” she mutters. He can’t turn his head to see what she’s doing, and the anxiety makes him feel like his circuits are about to fry. “I think I see it. Hold still for me now, yeah?”

He holds still, even as he feels unfamiliar tools very carefully pulling apart cables and machinery. Something tugs loose and snaps.

 **[REMOVED: LAGUARDIA IND CHIP MODEL TRK-8992]** flashes across his display. He dismisses it and feels relief.

“Do you still wanna come back to my shop?” she asks as he straightens and turns back around. “You look like you’re in pretty rough--” he grabs the chip out of her hand, throws it to the concrete, and grinds it into pieces with his foot. “--...shape.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “No charge?”

He starts to weigh his options.

“I got a sun lamp?”

“...Let’s go.”

She smiles. “Great! What do I call you, anyway?” she asks, starting to lead the way down the street.

“Call me Alexis,” he answers, very much eager to get back to a full charge.

“I’m Wright. Nice to meet you, Alexis.”

\---

Wright leads him to a small repair shop in what looks to be a downtown area. She asks him to stay on the long runner rugs while he’s still drenched in rainwater, and leads him behind the counter. His head swivels this way and that, automatically taking note of potential security flaws without really realizing. “Where’re your panels?” Wright asks, hanging up her raincoat and kicking off her galoshes.

“My back.”

She nods and rolls out an operating couch from against the wall, moving it under a high-end standing sun lamp and turning the bulb on. “Be my guest.”

He watches Wright move around the shop for a moment before taking her up on her offer. He peels off his soaked shirt and jacket and lays on his front on the couch, head resting on his folded arms. He opens up the panels on his back and makes a contented vocalization, feeling the lamp’s warmth charging his drained body already.

“You can go ahead and take a nap if you want,” Wright says, pulling a curtain around the area with the lamp. “I’ll take a look at your damage later.” He nods slowly, already feeling drowsy--not exhausted like before, but the pleasant sleepiness of plugging in or basking for a recharge. He remembers to set an alarm before letting himself lapse into sleep.

Two hours later on the dot, he feels himself slowly coming back to awareness. While not fully charged yet--his power levels would need much longer to fully recover after this, he supposed--he felt pleasantly energized. He closes up his solar panels and pulls the curtain back, quickly locating Wright tapping on a tablet not far off.

She looks over when she sees movement, grinning. “Welcome back, Alexis! Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you,” he says. Now that he’s had a chance to properly dry off and get started on a charge, he feels more capable of analyzing his situation. “Why did you help me?”

She sets down the tablet. “I mean, I’m a mechanic. If I see a bot all jacked up and hiding out in the rain, I just feel like I have to help them.” She shrugs. “It’s like other people with injured animals I guess?”

He’s never met a human with quite that attitude, but he nods as if he understands.

“So, you want me to take a look at your neck?” she asks, standing. “C’mon, this way.” She gestures for him to follow as she heads over to a worktable.

He sits down on a low stool there, automatically inclining his neck forward to give her easy access. He hears Wright shuffling tools around, but doesn’t try to watch, much as he mistrusts strangers being out of his field of vision. “Okay, just hold still for me,” she says, and he feels her get to work.

He almost feels like relaxing when some tweezers brush against an exposed wire. He spasms and his vocalizer releases a jittery cry, and he claps a hand over the back of his neck, alarms going off wildly in his head.

“Woah, hey!” Wright reassures him, moving around to crouch in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize that would happen.”

“It’s fine,” he forces out. “Just hurts.”

Wright blinks once, twice. “Wait. Hurts?”

He nods, careful not to jostle his internals too much.

“...You can feel pain?”

He slowly looks up, nodding again. Distress is clear on her face. “It’s so I--”

“You can feel pain!” She straightens, throwing her hands up in a gesture he vaguely recognizes as frustration. “Why can you feel pain! Shit!”

He waits a second to see if she’ll continue, then speaks again. “It’s so I can be more aware of my physical limits,” he explains. “Pain helps as a limiter so I don’t cause damage to myself while fulfilling my purpose.”

Wright turns back on him, distressed again. “What possible purpose could mean you have to be able to feel pain!”

“I… I _was_ a bodyguard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days in the past (but not many)

**Days Prior**

[She] drops him off at [His] workshop after an outing. Alexis feels anxious at their parting, but the serene smile on [Her] face is enough to ease any worries he has. [She] will have another guard until he gets back to work. It’s probably just a tune-up, anyway. Just a few hours apart and he can continue to

**[PROTECT]**

his charge.

“I’ll see you later, Raffi,” [He] says, idly waving his client away as [She] leaves the building with [Her] temporary escort. [He] steers Alexis over to a bench and opens an arm panel, connecting him to a workstation.

Alexis sits still as a statue, watching the mechanic idly clicking through a list he can’t see. He feels a diagnostic start up. “Can I ask what I’m in for?” he asks after a few very quiet moments.

[He] looks up briefly. “Oh, just taking a few parts for a new model,” [He] says. “She wants something new.”

“Oh.” Alexis looks down, feeling like his power cells suddenly took a dive. He should’ve known [She] would want to change to a different style of bodyguard eventually, given [Her] penchant for keeping up with the latest fashion and accessory trends. He just wishes he didn’t feel so upset at the thought of leaving [Her]. “Can’t you just remodel me to fit what she wants now?”

[He] doesn’t look up this time. “You ought to know she doesn’t do that.”

“Yeah, I ought to.” He’s silent a few more moments. “Have you got anyone in mind for me to work with instead?”

There’s a pause in the clicking as [He] gives him a glance. “Oh, you’re not working with anyone else. You’ll be outdated soon as I finish the new model.”

“...Outdated.”

“Hence, taking parts. Recycling.”

He checks the diagnostic scan again. It’s not only making sure everything’s in working order, it’s cataloguing all his components. “I can still work!” he protests, getting to his feet quickly. “Just put some older parts in to replace what you take!”

“Sit down,” [He] barks, and Alexis obeys, hands gripping the edge of the bench. “You’re not needed anymore.”

The words circle in his processor. Not needed. Things that aren’t needed are destroyed. His base protocols start to flare up.

**[PROTECT]**

Protect what? He’s not needed anymore. He hates having to accept that but it’s true. He doesn’t want to be destroyed but… 

**[PROTECT]**

There’s no “but.” He doesn’t want to be destroyed. He’s afraid of being destroyed.

**[NEW TARGET ACQUIRED FOR PROTECTION]**

**[DESIGNATION: LG 8992 “ALEXIS”]**

**[PROTECT]**

He rips the connection out of his arm and bolts out of the workshop, smashing the door open so hard it crumples. He hears [Him] shouting for security, hears the alarm start to blare, but tunes it all out. He just has to get out of there in one piece.

Heavy clouds block the sky outside when he exits the building and races down the sidewalk. There’s nowhere safe he can go in this city--the workshop and at [Her] side were the only places he ever found himself. Checking his power cells, he finds himself at 43%. He should be able to find someplace safe on the outskirts before they run out.

\---

**Presently**

He relays this to Wright as she works on his exposed neck, this time taking extra care not to disturb any exposed wires. “Basically a fugitive, then?” she asks.

“I guess,” Alexis says, staring down at the linoleum floor. “Without the tracking chip I should be safe, though.”

He feels his newly repaired neck panel slide shut and click into place. “If you need to lay low and get yourself together, I don’t mind putting you up for a while,” Wright says, coming around to sit across from him.

He looks up in surprise. “Are you sure? I’m not certain I’d be much use to you. And without someone to protect I get kind of jumpy.”

She smiles. “Sure, I’m sure. As for your protocols…” She hums. “Why don’t you protect me and the shop?” He feels his protocols immediately shifting to that idea, and that must’ve shown on his face, because her smile widens. “It’s not really dangerous here, but if it helps, go for it.”

“I… thank you,” he says, otherwise at a loss for words. The announcement slides into his view, highlighting Wright.

**[NEW TARGET ACQUIRED FOR PROTECTION]**

**[DESIGNATION: MECHANIC “WRIGHT”]**

**[PROTECT]**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gotta protect
> 
> Fill #4 (Kick Them While They're Down) for Bad Things Happen Bingo

Alexis spends the rest of the evening after Wright finishes repairing his neck and smaller scrapes surveying the security of the repair shop. “What kind of defense system do you have in place already?” he asks while linking up to the security cameras.

“Oh, I got Stabbs,” Wright answers, not looking up from her chips until Alexis practically has to force her to explain further.

Stabbs turns out to be a Dirt Friend brand minivac with a knife strapped to it.

“He has an alarm system too!” Wright protests as Alexis holds his face in his hands. She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I don’t know what sort of high-security job you had before, but cameras and an alarm and a Dirt Friend with a knife are plenty for this little shop.” She offers a reassuring smile.

“It just doesn’t seem… enough,” he says weakly, lowering his hands and slumping a bit. Already he feels extra protective of Wright, though still not at levels comparable to [Her].

Wright hums thoughtfully. “If we go look at security stuff tomorrow, would that make you feel better?” she asks. “Maybe I can let someone talk me into buying something.”

He decides that would help, and nods. She beams. “I’ll come pick you up before opening tomorrow, then,” she says.

He takes a second to process that wording. “Aren’t I staying with you?”

“No offense, but that would be kinda weird for me,” she says. “I just met you today, and I’m sure you’re an alright bot, but…” His distress must show, because she quickly changes tact. “Why don’t you take this as a chance to guard the shop? Get to know the place better and stuff?”

“I can do that,” he says, straightening up a bit proudly.

**[NEW DIRECTIVE ADDED: GUARD THE SHOP]**

\---

Wright comes to fetch him the following morning, which is gray but free of rain. Taking a fresh look at his disheveled appearance, she suggests stopping by a clothing shop as well, and he finds that to be a good idea--not only are his old clothes soaked with days of mud and rainwater, they’re also what he was last seen in by [Him] and [His] personal security staff.

“I can probably spare the cash forrrrr two outfits?” Wright says, looking at some details on her phone. “Nothing fancy, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Alexis asks. “I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine, but do I need two?”

Wright gives him two very raised eyebrows. “Alexis, my dude, first of all, I can barely dress myself.” She gestures at her shirt sporting the name of a band that was somewhat popular 40 years ago, and at her oil-stained blue jeans. He doesn’t really get what’s bad about that, but doesn’t interrupt her. “You’re picking the clothes. Second, yeah, you need at least two outfits! Don’t you think you’ll get bored wearing the exact same thing all the time?”

He looks down at his muddy jacket and slacks that he’d worn almost constantly for the last few years, but doesn’t comment. If Wright wants him to get two sets of clothes, he’ll get two sets of clothes. “If you say so.”

“I _do_ say so,” Wright says, crossing her arms.

They reach a reasonably trendy chain clothing store in twelve minutes of walking, with Wright stopping every so often to greet a few fellow pedestrians and exchange pleasantries. Once inside, Alexis selects two plain shirts and two pairs of slacks that fit. At Wright’s prompting, he selects one raincoat and one pair of shoes as well.

“You can go ahead and change when we get back to the shop,” Wright says, continuing to lead the way further into town. Alexis follows obediently, bag swinging under his arm. “And hey, maybe your old clothes can be salvaged. Security next. I know a couple guys.”

“Are they reliable?” he asks. Suspicious movement catches his eye, and he turns to watch.

“They’re good salespeople,” Wright answers.

Alarms start flashing in Alexis’s periphery as he watches the suspicious target pursuing an unaware pedestrian. “Stay here, Wright,” he says quickly, sliding the bag off his shoulder and shoving it into her arms. He crosses the street despite Wright’s confused protests, and slips into the familiar movement of trailing a potential threat.

He feels a thrill of correctness when he sees someone step out of an empty storefront and drag the pedestrian inside, and sees his target follow. He steps up to the shaded door once it’s closed and presses an ear to the crack, tuning up his audio sensors.

_“--think you owe us some money,”_ one voice says.

_“I paid you back already!”_ a second responds. Alexis hears the sound of flesh striking flesh and yanks the door open without hesitation.

**[PROTECT]**

The pedestrian is in the process of stumbling to the dirty tile floor, and his assailants don’t even notice him right away. “You forgot the interest!” the woman snarls. “Pay up, or--” She looks up, suddenly seeing Alexis. “...The fuck?”

The man on the floor scrambles backwards, holding his cheek as the two criminals round on Alexis. “It’s just a robot,” Target A scoffs. “Not even a cop.”

“You need to leave that man alone,” Alexis demands, stepping forward to place himself between the criminals and their victim. “If he owes you money, there should be a nonviolent solution.”

Target B rolls her eyes. “What the fuck ever! Violence works better.” She pulls a device out of her pocket--a two-pronged metal wand mounted on something with a switch. “Wanna help demonstrate?”

Target A retrieves a similar device, and the switches are flicked. Electricity crackles between the prongs, and Alexis recognizes crude, probably homemade, anti-robot weapons. Probably nothing to be worried about, if they think he’s just a run-of-the-mill robot. He decides to make the first move and put an end to things quickly.

He focuses on Target A, quickstepping forward and swinging his leg up to kick his weapon out of his hand. Target A steps back wildly, just barely dodging Alexis’s movements. “Oh shit he’s fast,” Target A mutters, dancing around his side and trying to jab him. Alexis skips back expertly, shifting his focus to Target B just enough to avoid a swipe.

Alexis shifts into a familiar pattern of striking and dodging, and feels his fans whir with pride when he successfully delivers a felling kick to Target A’s chest, sending him sprawling into a crumbling counter. He gives himself less than a nanosecond to celebrate before turning his attention back to Target B.

Target B sees him turn and immediately flings her weapon like a javelin, in what appears to be a last-ditch effort born of panic. That’s not something he expected.

The prongs lodge in his chest plating, and electricity courses through his wires, setting his pain receptors alight. His vocalizer screeches and glitches violently as his joints seize. He’s vaguely aware of Target B shouting “Oh shit that worked!” before his legs fail him and he falls.

He’s been electrocuted before, certainly, but in such cases there were backup security droids to come to his assistance. But here, he’s alone. He tries to think of how to get out of this, but the prongs are stuck fast and his processor can’t… process. His back arches up off the floor and he screams again, arms spasming wildly as he tries to grab for the source of his agony.

**[ERROR]**

_That doesn’t help!_ he tries to shout at his own HUD, but all that comes out is a garbled mess of static and consonants.

**[ERROR]**

**[ERROR]**

**[ERR**

The latest flashing error message popping up is interrupted by a heavy boot colliding with his head adding fresh pain to that already coursing through his body. “Take that you metal piece of shit!” Target B shouts. She reaches down and pulls the prongs out, then kicks him in the side when his back collapses again.

“Who the fuck builds a robot with a hero complex?” Target A mutters. Alexis hears him getting to his feet. “Should teach its creator to stick with toy store kits.”

Alexis struggles to get to his feet, but every movement is sluggish, and his receptors are still flinging with pain from the extended shocks.

**[BATTERY CRITICAL: 2%]**

He groans, shoving the power warning into a corner as he stares up at the Targets. “Surprised the fuckin’ thing is still moving, honestly,” Target B says. “Those things can drop a cop in seconds.” She kicks him in the side again and he cries out, sluggishly moving an arm to protect the spot. “You wanna speed the process along some?”

“Oh I’m ahead of you there,” Target A says, crouching down and bringing the sparking wand up next to Alexis’s face. He slowly turns to look at the implement, CPU racing to come up with a way out of this.

A large object collides with Target B’s head and sends her sprawling on the floor. Target A looks up suddenly, only to be met with the same fate while attempting to swear at whoever’s going at them.

**[BATTERY CRITICAL: 1.5%]**

**[SEEK CHARGE PORT IMMEDIATELY]**

Alexis struggles to sit, only to see the pedestrian the Targets had initially dragged in, wielding an old barstool. He drops it and runs over to Alexis, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him over to the door and out into the rain.

“Oh shit, Alexis!” he hears Wright cry out. Seconds later, she’s in his face, pulling him up to his feet. He looks around for his rescuer, but he’s already run off. “Sit tight a sec, I’m calling the cops.”

“Alright,” he mutters, watching her pull out her phone before his vision slides shut and he feels himself crumple onto the sidewalk.

**[EMERGENCY POWER RESERVE MODE ACTIVE]**

**[SEEK CHARGE PORT IMMEDIATELY]**

\---

He hears conversation, feels himself being carried, doesn’t have the power to react or respond to any of it. Something soft under his chest, warmth on his back…

**[BATTERY: 5%]**

**[REINITIALIZING…]**

His eyes flutter open, and he’s met with Wright’s worried face. “Oh thank fuck dude,” she says, sighing heavily and sitting back. He’s back in the shop, under her sunlamp. “I thought I lost you there.”

“Mmn,” he grunts, closing his eyes. He’s _exhausted._

“They arrested the guys who went at you,” Wright continues. “No word on the guy who pulled you out.” She reaches out and puts a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. It feels really nice. “That was stupid of you, dumbass.” Her tone of voice indicates affection.

“Gotta protect,” he mutters, too worn and sore to think about complete sentences.

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” He hears her stand. “You did good. Take a break, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, sinking into the couch more and letting the lamp’s warmth spread through his circuits.


End file.
